Brought to Light
by tricksterash
Summary: Secrets, once brought to light, are hard to forget. They know what's out there. Now they have to live with it. Sequel to In Shadow.
1. Uncertainty

**Happy Halloween! Here's your treat.**

_"Monsters don't always lurk in the shadows. Sometimes they hide in plain sight."  
><em>- Belle Aurora

**Uncertainty**

**-X-**

"Reid, what are you doing?"

Hotch reached out to steady the off-balance tower of files on the edge of his agent's desk. It was late, they'd just finished another case, and everyone else had already gone home for some much needed rest.

"Just looking over some old cases..." The younger man didn't even look up, only pausing in his reading to jot down some quick notes and grab another file. The tower teetered dangerously again, but managed to stay on the desk.

"Why all of a sudden?" Hotch thumbed through a couple of files. Three hikers that had gone missing in Washington... a group of beheaded college-aged kids in Michigan...

"Have you ever wondered just how many of our unsolved cases were... un-natural?" Reid asked hesitantly, his pen slowing just a bit.

The files Hotch had hidden in one of his desk's bottom drawers came to mind. He was pretty sure that at least one of them was a poltergeist. He sighed.

"Go home, Reid. Sleep."

"But-"

"No. I need you ready to work. Get some rest and come back to this another time."

Only after Reid had gotten into the elevator, leaving the files in a box under the desk, did Hotch return to his office. He hesitated when he leaned down to pick up his briefcase and his eyes locked on his drawer. No one was waiting at home, anyway.

**-X-**

**Da-da-da, I'm back! **

**Welcome to **_**Brought to Light**_**, a series of one-shots that follow **_**In Shadow**_**. I am open to prompts, so if you have an idea or something you'd like to see, send me a PM. You know what that button below is for. Good night ^3^**


	2. Secrets

_"Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret."  
><em>- Jean de La Fontaine

**Secrets**

**-X-**

Will had lived alone for a while, but he'd had his share of roommates in the past. There'd been girlfriends, friends, and six memorable months spent sharing a rather small house with four other people. He was well versed in the adjustment period necessary for everyone to learn each other's quirks.

He'd seen a few strange ones too: one who organized all his books by size; another who had to double check every lock in the house before going to sleep, including the windows and inside-doors; and one ex-girlfriend's snores could wake the dead.

Most of the quirks that Will noticed right away were as he'd expected. JJ always did a quick, casual sweep of the house when she got home, and she always had her bag packed in case the BAU had to leave (that was a habit that stuck around well into her maternity leave). He had not expected the salt.

JJ always had a lot of salt in the house. Not just table salt, though she made sure they were well stocked in that too, but she'd also bought rock salt in bulk as soon as it appeared on the shelves. He'd asked her why out of curiosity at the time, considering it was nowhere near cold enough for ice yet, and she'd said it was on sale. He'd let it go; maybe winters were worse than he thought up here.

Then, less than a month before Henry was born and during one of the few times JJ had not travelled with them, the team came back from South Dakota with a large package. Garcia had quickly enlisted Morgan, Prentiss and Reid to help her deliver it, practically trembling with excitement. Curiosity was contagious and, despite the late hour and general post-case exhaustion, everyone but Garcia (who smiled like she had secret sitting on her tongue) crowed 'round to read the short note. In blocky scrawl it explained that its contents were crafted from rowan and it was signed '_The boys (and Bobby)_'. It meant nothing to Will, but JJ had shot Garcia a stunned look.

Inside the box they found the pieces to a plain but well crafted crib. Her mother had gifted them with a newer styled one, but at JJ's insistence the six of them made quick work of packing it away and replacing it with the wooden one. Will thought the pale wood looked better in the newly-painted nursery, anyway.

Four months later, Will had finally been able to (help) persuade JJ to take a night off and accept an invitation for a well deserved girls' night. He'd just put Henry down to sleep and was alternately humming and singing to help him settle down, when he noticed the slight grooves in the otherwise smooth wood beneath his fingers.

It didn't feel natural, it was too even. So he found a small penlight and checked the undersides of the railing; then under the crib itself. Tiny symbols lined the wood in intricate patterns. Some Will thought he recognized from old books of his father's, they might have been Norse or Celtic, but he wasn't sure, and others he'd never seen before.

"What in the world?" he muttered, careful not to wake the finally sleeping baby.

Later, JJ came home to find Will fast asleep on the couch with an open laptop and a notebook full of runes and sigils on the coffee table. She closed the laptop silently, spread a throw blanket over him, and, with a mixture of guilt and relief washing over her, she stepped outside to do something she'd hoped to put off as long as possible. JJ called Bobby Singer for advice on how to shatter someone's world-view and tell them about the things that went bump in the night.

**-X-**

**NOTES:  
>- the majority of these one-shots will not be in order<br>- (to answer LeeMarieJack) a lot of these do have a basis in larger fics I just don't feel like I'd be able to finish right now, but maybe someday  
>- Dean came back to life around Sept. 18, 2008; Henry was born Oct. 26, 2008<br>- the rowan tree and its wood are supposed to be a powerful ward for protection both on its own and in ritual  
>- I also realised while doing timeline research that JJ probably should not have been traveling so close to when she gave birth. I swear, that woman is a tank<strong>

**As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated (as are prompts and requests)**


	3. Talk to Me

_"One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood."  
>- <em> Lucius Annaeus Seneca

**Talk to Me**

**-X-**

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt._

"Dean. Phone." Dean rolled over with a groan and pulled his pillow over his head, trying to block out the sound. Until Sam's pillow hit him in the stomach with an almost solid thump. Damn motel pillows.

"You're not getting that back now," he grumbled rolling onto it and reaching for his phone. "Yeah?"

"Clearly, you are not a morning person," chimed the bright voice in the other end.

"Barely two A.M., Penny. Just fell asleep."

"Then I promise to make this quick."

"Fine. Shoot."

"Werewolves: are we looking for wolf-man or full on dire wolf?"

"Wolf-man, minus the fur. Always eat the heart. Full wolf and you're looking at a skinwalker. Silver'll take down either of 'em."

"Thanks. Sweet dreams."

**-X-**

"Penny, this is really not the best time. I'm, ah, working."

"Just one question. Does table salt work?"

"Nah, needs to be pure rock salt. If you need anything else, call later."

He ended the call and sent the police officer he'd been talking to a sheepish smile.

"Little sisters. She's trying to make ice cream."

**-X-**

"Do you ever call Sam for these things?"

"He answered your phone once while you were in the shower, does that count?"

**-X-**

"I'm beginning to think you never sleep."

"Isn't that a little hypocritical Mr. Four Hours?"

**-X-**

"You know you can always call Bobby, right? He's practically the expert on things these things."

"I know. I've got his number tucked away, but I just like talking to you."

"Must be my charm."

"Nah. I just know you won't hang up on a pretty girl."

"He'd listen. Just keep it in mind."

"... I will. Dean, are you okay?"

"..."

**-X-**

"Penny? What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"It's going on three in the morning where you are, and I know you're not working because you wouldn't be calling me."

"I'm fine. I'm just... not sleeping well lately. I guess."

"Then talk to me. You know I won't judge."

**-X-**

"Dean Morgan Winchester, you pick up this damn phone right now!"

"Dean, I swear to God, if you do not call me back."

"Dean... Please..."

**-X-**

**And thus Dean Winchester went to hell (I swear the next one will be happy)  
>I hope all of you had a great holiday and have a great year!<strong>

**NOTES:  
>- Dean <strong>_**Morgan **_**Winchester - Dean has no official middle name but I'm partial to using Morgan because of Jeffrey Dean Morgan  
>- I've always seen Garcia as someone who gets attached to people quickly and easily<strong>

**You know what to do with reviews and prompts**


	4. Witching Hour

_"There's always going to be bad stuff out there. But here's the amazing thing — light trumps darkness, every time. You stick a candle into the dark, but you can't stick the dark into the light."_

- Jodi Picoult

**Witching Hour**

**-X-**

Rossi was used to being woken up at odd hours. Granted, it was usually when he was being called in to work, not by someone pounding on his door at two in the morning. He slipped his robe over his pajamas and grabbed the gun from his bedside drawer, checking to be sure it was loaded before heading for the door.

"Who is it?" Every time he said that, it still sounded silly. No one with less than pure intentions would answer honestly.

"This is Officer James of the Quantico PD, I'm looking for a David Rossi." He sounded young (and far too energetic for this time of the night). He checked through the peephole and, sure enough, a twenty year old brunet in uniform stood on the other side with two smaller figures standing behind him.

"I'm _Agent_ Rossi," he stressed, "I'm going to open the door, but I have my sidearm with me."

He waited for the young man to acknowledge his warning before unbolting the door and opening it. The officer kept his hands cautiously visible as his gaze shifted between his gun and his face. Definitely young. Behind him stood two girls, one in her late teens and the other younger, maybe even preteen. Both wore clothing too big for them and while they looked vaguely familiar, Rossi didn't recognize either of them.

"I'm sorry, sir, these girls were lost and asked for my help and... um."

Rossi saw the older girl with the blonde pixie cut tug on a lock of the younger girl's shoulder-length brown hair behind James' back before his breath was knocked out of him and her arms wrapped around his waist. He hastily set the gun on the table by the door.

"Uncle Dave!" she cheered, as the other girl laughed and stepped forward.

"Damn, Uncle Dave, you'd almost think you didn't recognize us. Careful, Sammy, you might break him."

"Shut up, Deanna!" the younger girl complained, loosening her grip nonetheless, and turning her hazel glare on her sister. Rossi fought to keep his jaw from dropping. He suddenly realized where he'd them before, only last time they'd been older. Taller. _Male_. Recognition must have shown on his face as mischief danced in the older girl's green eyes.

Dean. Those eyes, that grin, even those freckles were Dean's. The other girl would, he was suddenly sure, have Sam's dimples if she were smiling. The Winchesters were at his door at two in the morning, and they were young girls.

"B - Girls, what -"

"I know we were supposed to be here hours ago, but my car broke down near the edge of town." _More like you couldn't drive without a licence when you barely look old enough_, Rossi thought. "Luckily, Cole here was on patrol and gave us a ride." Dean (Deanna?) shot the young police officer a beatific smile and the colour rose in his cheeks.

"It really wasn't any trouble," he insisted, rubbing the back of his neck, "My shift was ending anyway."

"Why didn't you take them back to the station?" The young man jumped at the reminder that Rossi was there and blanched under his stare.

"I asked him and he was nice enough to bring us straight here," Dean explained, smiling in a way that was not quite as innocent as he probably thought it was. Officer James could only nod, at a loss for words. "I thought it would be fine, you being an FBI agent and all."

"Right..." Sam yawned then, and Rossi wasn't quite sure if it was faked or not, "It's late. Let's get you two settled. Thank you for the help, Officer."

As soon as the door clicked shut, all three sighed and Rossi rubbed a hand over his face.

"Boys, how did this even happen? And why come _here_?"

"Witches, man," Dean said nonchalantly, "And you were closer than Bobby's. Relax, it's not like this is the weirdest shit we've got caught up in."

"Oh, really? Has this happened before?"

"Well, not the sex-swap," Dean admitted, "But involuntary shape-shifting is one of their go-to's. Hey do you have anything to eat? I forgot how much teenagers eat."

"What's your excuse the rest of the time?" Sam asked, lazily ducking Dean's swat and wandering over to the couch. His body practically disappeared into the oversized (well, regular sized) hoodie he wore when he sat down.

"You okay?"

"Ummhm. I'm just tired and, like, twelve. I think." Dean laughed and poked his head out of the kitchen.

"You're just lucky you're too young for puberty. These things are heavier than they look!"

"TMI," Sam mumbled into his knees, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"You two can have the guest room," Rossi decided with a sigh, "I don't know what to do about clothes though. Obviously, nothing of mine will fit either of you." One of his shirts would probably work as a night dress for Sam, but he wasn't sure how comfortable the kid would be with that.

"We've got it covered," Dean came out of the kitchen and pulled a battered backpack decorated with characters from some cartoon from his back. "Some old lady was nice enough to help out the 'runaways' and gave us some of her granddaughters' old stuff. She was going to donate them anyway, so we'll just do that after we're back to normal."

Dean finished his snack and prodded Sam's shoulder, getting only a sleepy mumble in reply. The older Winchester sighed before bending to sling his brother over his shoulder.

"You know I can do this again, right?" he said, but still only got a sleepy 'whatever' from his limp sibling, "Fine, be that way. Lead on, Uncle Dave."

A fond smile tugged at his lips before a yawn broke through. Definitely time to get back to sleep, and hopefully the team wouldn't be called away tomorrow.

**-X-**

**This chapter has been brought to you by procrastination! **

**Seriously, I have two essays due on Thursday and I work most of the week. The good thing is that one is only half the size of the other and I've got the research done, so writing it usually isn't too hard after that. Anyway, yay! A happy chapter, for once. I may have to revisit this storyline later, because it's fun to write and sex/genderbenders have always been a guilty pleasure of mine. **

**As always, reviews/comments are greatly appreciated.**


	5. Fallen

_"Seasons are changing  
>And waves are crashing<br>And stars are falling all for us"_

- Red Jumpsuit Apparatus (_Your Guardian Angel_)

**Fallen**

**-X-**

"Mommy, wake up! Daddy!"

JJ heard a questioning groan from the other side of the bed as Will struggled into wakefulness. She rolled over to face the excited four-year-old in Spiderman pajamas who had clambered onto the bed, careful not to dislodge him with the movement.

"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked pulling Henry toward her and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. He grinned and used his new angle to shake Will's shoulder, making sure he wasn't going to fall back asleep.

"You've gotta see. There's so many, it's like the sky's falling!" He hopped off the bed and dashed to the window to struggle with the heavy curtain.

"Sky's... falling?" Will asked, sitting up, his voice rough with sleep. She shrugged and, when she realised it was still too dark for him to the motion, she make an affirming sound. She wasn't sure what Henry meant either.

Joining her son at the window, JJ slid the curtain aside and didn't need any prodding to look up; she saw immediately what he'd meant. Spots of light streaked across the sky and fell toward the earth, hundreds of shooting stars lighting up the night sky.

"Will." He'd been sleepily wrestling with blankets twisted around his feet but rushed across the room when he saw the sky.

"Well, would you look at that," he whispered in awe, "No one mentioned a meteor shower tonight."

"Told you," Henry said. JJ lowered herself to the floor to sit with her legs crossed and pulled Henry into her lap. Will joined them after a moment, wrapping their duvet around the three of them.

"Don't forget to make a wish." Henry looked up at her with wide eyes.

"On all of them?"

"Maybe just one or two," Will said with a grin that Henry mirrored, "Someone else might need one too." Their son nodded and closed his eyes tightly, face scrunched up in concentration.

"I wish..."

**-X-**

**Thank you for reading, as always. Sorry it's so short after all this time but I am working on a few more and I bought DA: Origins and DA: II so there went my time. And in case there is any doubt what's really going on: Henry is four and a half years old in this chapter and someone else could most definitely use all the wishes they can get right about now.**


	6. This Side of Paradise

**Note that I've changed my pen-name to match my AO3 and tumblr.**

**Warning: slight language.**

_"It is better to die on your feet than live on your knees." _- Emiliano Zapata

**This Side of Paradise**

**-X-**

"Shit. Shit. Shit, shit," Ash chanted under his breath, spotting another angel coming around the corner. He practically dove for the nearest door, pulling it open and ducking into the heaven.

He always felt some degree of excitement when he did this - almost like a good high (He missed those. Nothing he'd found in his heaven had felt quite real enough.) He hardly ever checked whose piece of paradise he was jumping into so he never knew what to expect. One time, while he was looking for Jo's heaven, he'd interrupted some poor guy named Joe in the middle of a threesome. Funny and awesome.

This time was pretty boring. Just an old guy in a cabin with a chess set. At least he probably wouldn't throw anything at Ash's head, though. That had happened so many times he was surprised he'd never gotten a concussion. Can you even get a concussion in heaven?

"Hey, sorry man. Just hiding for a bit."

"Who are you hiding from?" The man asked, looking completely unperturbed. How does a guy stay so serene when someone bursts into their _heaven_ of all places? The standard reaction is at least surprise.

The man kind of reminded Ash of one of his early foster dads, actually. An older man who'd patiently 'entertained' Ash's 'vivid imagination' when he'd tried to tell him how his parents had really died on that camping trip.

Of course, his wife hadn't wanted to deal with Ash and he'd been shipped off to the next home. And the next. And the next. Until adults decided he was too old to be telling stories and he'd learned to shut up. Then he'd met Ellen and been pulled into the life she'd built around the Roadhouse, and he'd never left.

"The angels," Ash saw no point in lying, and maybe he was looking for a reaction. Disappointingly, the man only raised an eyebrow with a little 'ah'. "Kinda busted out of my heaven. Harder than it used to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah, the whole civil war put everything out of order. It used to be simple - if I couldn't hack it I'd just follow a road or path to a connected heaven and keep going. Then they changed the pattern and now they're all connected to the same white _Matrix _hallways." Why was he telling him this? Must be more bored than he'd thought.

"Why leave your own at all then?" The guy actually looked curious, like he honestly wanted to know.

"Got people to find. Found some of 'em. Still haven't seen John or Mary, but that's nothing new. I'm looking for a grumpy guy 'bout your age right now. Bobby Singer. Just having some trouble finding the 'Bobby's. There's got to be a pattern..." In the end Ash had kind of forgot he was talking to someone else. He was used to talking to himself to fill the silence.

"Maybe I can help?" the man suggested, offering a seat to the hacker with a wave of his hand. "We can work it out together. Maybe play a game of chess."

"Why?" Ash asked suspiciously. Usually the people he'd run into just wanted him out; some of them didn't even realise they were dead and thought he was doing a BnE. Even that Jimmy guy, while pretty friendly if a bit harried, had been happy to see him out because he was waiting for someone.

"You remind me of someone. Several people, actually." There was that kind smile again. It crinkled his eyes, even though there was a hint of sadness in them. When Ash sat across from him, the old man held out a hand, introducing himself. "Jason Gideon."

"Ash," he replied, shaking his hand. Soon, Gideon was setting up the chess board between them with white toward the younger man. While he made his first move, Ash suddenly remembered something.

"Hey, have you ever seen an angel? I've always wondered if everyone sees them the same. I mean, you always hear about white robes and wings but all I'm seeing is _Men in Black_."

**-X-**

Thanks for reading (Fun Fact: this chapter is named after a _Star Trek_ episode. And also a song from a _Pokemon_ movie.) Oh, and I know Gideon isn't all that old, but this is Ash's PoV.


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